


Driving Miss Molly

by flimflam99



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 10:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12431010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimflam99/pseuds/flimflam99
Summary: How Sherlock and Molly met.  Just to set the scene, Molly is about 25, 26 years old and has just started her job as a junior pathologist at Barts.  She comes from a wealthy background. Sherlock is about 28, 29 and is living with Mycroft after being in rehab due to his drug addiction.  Mycroft (still head of the British Government) has persuaded Greg Lestrade to let Sherlock help on one of his cases.........





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from the film Driving Miss Daisy. Aspiration for this fic came from the 80s series Hart to Hart, especially the opening credits where Max says "because when they met it was murder....." I always loved that line and how else could Sherlock and Molly meet?

“So if they have been murdered the prime suspect is a Margaret Hooper, Molly to her friends.” Greg Lestrade tossed the file on Margaret Hooper onto his desk and watched as the tall, curly haired young man in front of him picked up the file. God he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake, letting him help on this case.

“So why you do think they’ve been murdered and why her?” The young man, Sherlock Holmes, asked. He flicked through the file and paused to examine the photo of the young woman. She had long brown hair, brown eyes in an elfin face, she was pretty but not beautiful.

“There is no evidence that they have, yet three people have died quite suddenly and mysteriously who are all connected in some way to Miss Hooper. Her uncle, Peter Hooper, died on the golfing range, suddenly keeled over, put down to heart problems. Then there was Mr David Smith, the chauffeur. He fell down the steps of the family home in front of 10 witnesses. He wasn’t pushed, he simply fell and didn’t get up again. Lastly it was the housekeeper, Mrs Elizabeth Finch, again dropped down dead suddenly for no apparent reason.” Lestrade sighed in frustration.

“And you think it’s her because……….” Sherlock Holmes raised his head and stared at Greg Lestrade.

“Because Margaret Hooper, Molly, has just started her new job as a junior pathologist at St. Barts. If the victims have been poisoned, as we suspect, who would be in a better position to know about obscure poisons?”

“And you want me to what? Question her?”

Greg shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “No. We want you to go undercover. She’s looking for a new chauffeur, she can’t drive and their estate is about an hour’s drive away from Bart’s. We want you to be the new chauffeur, the only problem is getting references for you….”

“My brother Mycroft can handle that” Sherlock interrupted, a smug smile on his face. Greg frowned at him.

“Just don’t mess this up, Sherlock and don’t try to be a hero. Your job is to get as much information out of her as you can. The minute you think you’re in trouble, get out of there. Ok?” Greg frowned again at him. Sherlock nodded putting on his sincere face. After leaving Greg’s office though his face broke into a wide smile.

\-----------------------------------------

The doorbell was answered by Molly herself which threw Sherlock a bit until he realised she had not replaced the housekeeper.

“Hello, I have an appointment with Miss Hooper, my name is Scott Henderson.” Sherlock was acting at his most diffident, a shy smile gracing his lips. 

“Mr Henderson, please come in” Molly’s smile in contrast was bright and welcoming. A bit too bright perhaps? Sherlock wondered. 

Molly led him into the Kitchen which was large and had been recently modernised. She indicated a seat at the table and Sherlock sat down.  
“Would you like a drink, Mr Henderson?” Molly moved towards the kettle, hand hovering by the switch which she put on at Sherlock’s answering nod.

“Coffee, please. Black two sugars” Molly prepared the drinks and then sat down opposite Sherlock, where he could see a copy of ‘Scott Henderson’s’ CV and references in front of her.

“Mr Henderson, you have excellent references from Lord and Lady Smallwood” Sherlock managed not to smile at the young woman, only a couple of years younger than him, trying to act the lady of the manor.

“Please call me S-Scott, I’m finding this all quite overwhelming as it is.” He stuttered out. Molly blinked and then a slow smile crept across her face.

“I’m finding this a bit overwhelming too. I inherited the estate from my father who died last year from cancer and a lot of other things have been happening over the last few months.” Molly took a deep calming breath. “Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, Scott?”

Sherlock rambled on for several minutes and then Molly told him about the job which although full-time, as she worked at Bart’s doing 10 hour shifts he would have a lot of free time in between. Plenty of time for Sherlock to nose a bit deeper into Molly Hooper’s life, Sherlock thought.

“There will be some evenings too, I go out with my uni mates a couple of times a month, then there’s the odd charity meeting I go to, also a few night shifts at Barts, would you be ok with that, Scott?” Sherlock nodded. “Great, when can you start?”

“Whenever you want.” Sherlock answered swiftly. Molly beamed at him.

“How about tomorrow? Or is that too soon? I can show you the garage and flat now if you want and then you can move in later today.”

Sherlock nodded and so Molly showed him around the garage which had three cars, a white Jaguar, a black BMW and a silver grey Mercedes.

“What car do you want me to use?” Sherlock asked Molly. 

“Whichever you wish, I don’t mind they are all MOT’d and taxed. The paperwork and upkeep of the cars would be your responsibility. The flat is upstairs, it’s a nice size with its own Kitchen but you can eat up at the main house if you wish. Just let me know which you would prefer.” Molly showed him round the flat which was quite a nice size. Sherlock had already decided to eat at the main house, although Molly was yet to get a new housekeeper, she had someone come in every day to cook and clean and Sherlock wanted to get as much information as he could.

\---------------------------------------------------

Sherlock turned up later that afternoon with a suitcase full of Scott Henderson’s things. He put his clapped out Ford Focus (which Mycroft had found for him) in the garage next to the white Jaguar. Sherlock whistled appreciatively at it, he couldn’t wait to drive it. He walked back out of the garage and round to the back of the house and knocked at the door. It was opened by a middle-aged lady with dyed red hair, green eyes, plump figure and a beaming smile.

“You must be Mr Henderson, Miss Molly told me you would be arriving later, come on in.”   
She waved him inside and Sherlock hastily complied with Scott’s shy diffident smile lighting up his face.

“Tea or coffee?” 

“Coffee, please. Black two sugars, umm… Mrs…?” Sherlock trailed off as Molly hadn’t given him the lady’s name.

“Katherine Masters, but please just call me Kate.” Her hand shot out to shake his briefly. 

“And you must call me Scott.” Sherlock was puzzled though. “Do I need to call Miss Hooper, Miss Molly?” Kate snorted with laughter, quickly putting the kettle back down before she spilt hot water down herself. “Sorry, it’s just that she never told me to call her that”. Sherlock playing the part of Scott tried to look embarrassed whilst mentally rolling his eyes.

“Oh bless you love, no. It’s something that Lizzie and I called her. She was such a sweet little girl that we took to calling her Miss Molly and the name just stuck. No love, she’ll want you to call her Molly unless the situation requires a more formal title.” Sherlock nodded and sipped his coffee which she had made for him.

“Who’s Lizzie? Does she work here?” Sherlock put on an innocent expression knowing full well who ‘Lizzie’ was.

“Lizzie was housekeeper here. She passed away not long ago, bless her. Her heart gave out on her. She was a nice woman. Loved Molly to bits, would do anything for her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that” Sherlock didn’t press for any more information, instead complimenting her on the biscuits he had been munching on during their exchange.

\------------------------------------------

It was late evening when Sherlock saw the taxi draw up outside of the house and Molly getting out and paying the driver before hurrying inside. He turned away from the window to look at his watch, noting the time, before getting ready to go to bed himself.

The next day, Sherlock got dressed. It wasn’t a uniform as such, in fact it was a far cheaper version of what he would usually wear, a black suit with a white shirt. Yesterday to the interview, Sherlock had just worn a white shirt and brown trousers. He stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom and tried to tame his unruly curls. At least he didn’t have to wear a hat.

He bounded down the stairs from his flat into the main house for breakfast. Normally Sherlock would just have tea and toast. He entered the Kitchen and stopped suddenly, he wasn’t expecting Molly to be sat at the Kitchen table munching through a bowl of cornflakes.

“Oh. Um good morning, Miss Mol, I mean Miss Hooper.” Sherlock blushed at his slip of the tongue, since hearing Kate call her Miss Molly he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head. Molly giggled.

“Please, just call me Molly. Help yourself to whatever you want. There’s bacon and eggs in the fridge or there’s cereal on the side there and there’s bread in the breadbin.” Sherlock ambled his way over to the breadbin, taking out a couple of slices and popping them in the toaster. He poured some coffee into a mug and then hovered.

Molly walked over to the dishwasher, placing her bowl and spoon into it carefully before turning to him. Sherlock heard the hitch in her breath as he turned to look at her. He carefully suppressed the smirk on his face leaving a Scott like innocent expression. She fancied him, Sherlock mused. He heard Molly clear her throat and watched as she hastily took a sip of her tea. 

“Well, I’ll just go upstairs and grab my stuff and then we might as well go.” She murmured quietly, avoiding looking at him, she quickly went upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock huffed in frustration. This was not going as planned. He had intended to use the hour long drive into London to subtly start questioning her about her family. Molly would then naturally say she had just lost her uncle and Sherlock was hoping he would be able to deduce whether she had a hand in his death or not. However, upon entering the car, Molly had brought a load of papers out of her bag and airily explained to him that she was reading through her draft of a paper she was writing. Sherlock glanced at her in the rearview mirror, she had a pencil stuck between her teeth, her brows drawn together in concentration.

Sherlock dropped her off at Barts and then drove back to the Hooper estate. Molly had informed him that Kate was going food shopping this morning (she had asked him to add anything he wanted to the list she had left on the table) so Sherlock wanted to get back as soon as possible so that he could have a wander round the house, in particular Molly’s room.

Kate’s purple Ford Fiesta was not parked in its usual place when Sherlock got back and he quickly parked the Jaguar in the garage and ran into the house. He jogged up the stairs. There were six bedrooms in total, four on the first floor and two on the second. Sherlock ignored the Master Bedroom, though Molly’s father had died over a year ago, Sherlock knew that she would feel uncomfortable sleeping in his room and he made his way over to the last bedroom on this floor.

When Sherlock opened the door he had to mentally revise his opinion of Molly Hooper. Expecting to see frills and flounces, soft toys on the bed and everything in a shocking shade of pink, he was disconcerted to find instead that Molly’s bedroom walls were decorated in a soft lilac colour, the duvet itself just a plain darker purple colour, the curtains matching the duvet. Not a soft toy in sight, no frills or flounces anywhere. 

There was a photo on her bedside table of her dad otherwise there were no photos, only a couple of prints on the walls. He searched her room but found nothing untoward there, he didn’t find the thing he was looking for the most, her diary. He was sure that Molly would have one somewhere. 

After searching her room, Sherlock then looked in the other rooms but again found nothing incriminating. He then went downstairs and looked in Molly’s father’s Study but it was in what would have been the Drawing Room that Sherlock found Molly’s laptop. He was just about to open it when he saw Kate’s car come up the drive. Sherlock quickly exited the house and made his way back to his flat above the garage.

\------------------------------------------------

Sherlock was just as frustrated when he picked Molly up from Bart’s. He hadn’t had the opportunity to go back into the house to look at Molly’s laptop as he had gone into his mind palace and had lost track of the time. Luckily he’d had the foresight to put an alarm on his phone for when he had to go and pick Molly up otherwise he would probably still be there. So he was partly frustrated because of that but also he was frustrated because instead of talking to Molly, she had fallen asleep in the back of the car. Sherlock grunted to himself but took some small satisfaction from driving at well over the speed limit on the motorway and sticking his finger up at any passing speed camera. Mycroft would be furious with him!

\---------------------------------

Molly was working the nightshift the next day from 8pm to 8am. Sherlock got up at the usual time and helped himself to toast and coffee before making his way back to the garage. He wore a pair of jeans and a blue shirt. He started to clean the Jaguar and was halfway through when he realised that he had company. Molly stood in the doorway watching him. She was wearing jeans and a pink t-shirt. 

“Morning Scott! Is everything ok?” Molly asked brightly. 

“Everything is fine. Do you need me for anything?” Sherlock smiled back and hoped that he looked like a professional washing the car, he’d never cleaned a car before in his life. 

“Well, I was hoping you’d drive me into town. I thought I’d go clothes shopping.”

“That’s no problem. Give me ten minutes and I’ll pick you up in the Mercedes.” Sherlock gave a small smile, Molly beamed at him.

Molly’s bright smile dimmed at bit on seeing him waiting outside leaning against the door of the Mercedes. Sherlock frowned, he’d obviously done something wrong.

“Is everything ok?” He asked somewhat nervously.

Molly nodded her head. “It’s fine. You didn’t have to get changed though, in fact Dave, the previous chauffeur only wore the uniform when he drove dad anywhere or if I went to a charity function.”

“Oh!” Sherlock grimaced. “I didn’t realise”.

“Well, it’s my fault really. I should have explained. You don’t need to dress up just to ferry me to work or shopping.” Molly twiddled with the strap of her bag and Sherlock opened the car door for her to get in. “Actually if it’s ok with you, I might sit in the front?” Sherlock nodded and opened the front passenger door for her. He got in himself and started the car up.

“So did Dave get another job?” He asked casually, watching Molly’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. He heard Molly take a deep breath.

“No. He passed away not too long ago. I was there, it was horrible. He fell down the steps outside the house, he must have tripped or something.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Kate also said that you’d lost your housekeeper recently too?” Sherlock queried. He was finding it difficult asking questions in his ‘Scott’ persona, in normal circumstances he would just ask the questions and be damned if it hurt.

“Yes. Just after Dave, Lizzie had a heart attack. It’s not been the best year so far”. Molly sounded upset and Sherlock quickly glanced at her. What he saw on her face convinced him of one thing. There was no way she was responsible for the deaths but he was also convinced that they were murdered but by whom and why?

\------------------------

Sherlock parked the car and quickly hopped out to open Molly’s door. She thanked him quietly and then just stood gazing at him.

“What time to you want me to pick you up?” Sherlock asked.

“Shall we say a couple of hours? Then I thought that maybe…..” Molly’s voice trailed off and Sherlock frowned at her, was she asking what he thought she was asking?

“Maybe what?” He asked more cheerfully than he wanted to.

“Well we could have lunch together? Before we go back?” Molly looked hopefully at him.

“I don’t eat when I’m working.” Sherlock snapped, he quickly added a bit more gently “It would be quite unprofessional to be seen having lunch out with my employer.” He tried to smile nicely at her but he wasn’t sure it worked.

“Yes, you’re right. Sorry. Well better make it three hours then.” Molly quickly moved away, but not before Sherlock saw the hurt in her eyes.

“Coffee.” He blurted out before he could stop himself. “I’m sure having a coffee and a sandwich wouldn’t be too unprofessional. How about the café across the road in say two and a half hours?” Molly brightened considerably and walked away with a spring in her step. Sherlock swore under his breath. Why did he say that? It came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

\----------------

Sherlock took the opportunity of being in town for a couple of hours to go and see Lestrade at New Scotland Yard. 

“She didn’t do it, Greg.” Sherlock said haughtily, taking a sip of the coffee Greg had given him and then making a face and putting it quickly back on Greg’s desk.

“Ok. What did she tell you Sherlock?” Greg leant back in his seat waiting for the genius that was Sherlock Holmes, a stone cold sober Sherlock Holmes, to surprise him.

Sherlock shrugged. “She didn’t tell me anything, I observed. When I met her she was bright and cheerful but she was putting on an act, for my benefit, for Kate’s, maybe even for herself, but it was an act. She was grieving the loss of her uncle and her two friends. But today when I spoke to her, I saw it.” 

“Saw what?” Greg questioned.

“Sentiment.” Sherlock replied making a face.  
\------------------------------

Sherlock was just coming out of New Scotland Yard when he collided with someone going the over way. Sherlock muttered under his breath, barely glancing at the man before hurrying away to meet Molly. The man stopped though and stared after Sherlock.

\------------------------------

Sherlock met Molly at the café and bought them both a coffee and some sandwiches. They chatted together, Sherlock back in his sweet and affable Scott mode. He didn’t talk about the murders, for some reason he didn’t want to see Molly’s face look sad, so he made up stories of his previous chauffeur experience and got Molly to talk about herself. All too soon it was time to go back and for Molly to have a few hours rest before her nightshift started.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day when Sherlock picked Molly up at 8am, she fell asleep in the back of the car again and only woke up when Sherlock stopped the car. 

“Oh God, I’ll be glad to get to bed, it was a long night last night.” Molly mumbled more to herself, then Sherlock. She then seemed to remember something.

“I’m off for the next three days, I’m working Sunday though. Tonight I’m meeting my uni friends so if you can take me into town this evening at six and pick me up later, then you can have the next two days off. You’re welcome to stay at the flat or go home, whatever you want.”

“That’s fine.” Molly started to sway on her feet, so Sherlock took hold of her arm and guided her up the steps and into the house. He insisted on making her some breakfast before she stumbled up the stairs to bed. Sherlock stared after her. He was worried. He had managed to get into her laptop last night and accessed her diary but there was absolutely nothing incriminating on there (unless you counted Molly’s secret Scooby Doo obsession). There had to be something he was missing, what was the connection between Molly’s uncle and the other two murders? If the only connection was Molly – could she be next? He didn’t like the constriction in his chest when he thought that. Molly was just part of the case, that was all….

“Sentiment”. He muttered.

\---------------------------

Molly was sat in the back of the car singing. It wouldn’t be so bad if Molly wasn’t so drunk that she couldn’t remember the words and if she was actually singing in tune. 

“I need a hero, I’m holding out for a hero to the…. whatever it is ….. and he’s gotta be strong and he’s gotta be something else and he’d gotta be fresh from the fight……”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, at the rate she was going, he’d need an aspirin let alone a hero.

He brought the car to a standstill outside the steps to the front of the house. Molly was humming under her breath now but seemed oblivious to the fact that the car had stopped. Sherlock got out and opened her door. Molly grinned and giggled up at him. Sherlock reached in to undo her seatbelt and then hauled her out of the car. 

“Come on Miss Molly, let’s get you up these steps.” Molly just giggled up at him, went to stand on the step only to completely miss. She stumbled and Sherlock quickly grabbed her round the waist so she didn’t fall. She collapsed against him, her head dropping to his chest and Sherlock sighed before gathering her up in his arms and carrying her up the steps and into the house.

Sherlock placed her gently on the sofa in the Drawing Room (there was no way he was carrying her up another flight of stairs to her bedroom). Molly curled up on the sofa, still humming to herself and Sherlock went to the Kitchen to get her a glass of water. He sat next to her on the sofa and hauled her upright against his chest to get her to drink the water. Molly drank most of it, the rest spilt down her dress. 

“Scott?” She murmured, her head was still resting against his chest, she was gazing dreamily up at him, her hand reaching up to run along his jawline. Sherlock tensed, electric tingles ran along his jaw where she touched him. “You look so damn sexy” She breathed. Sherlock tried to pull away from her but he was trapped in the corner of the sofa, her body leaning heavily against him. She moved up his body, unconsciously digging her elbows into his stomach to lever herself up. Sherlock let out a grunt as her elbows dug into him and it was at that moment with his mouth half open that Molly decided to kiss him. Her lips clung to his and her tongue darted into his open mouth. Sherlock let out an involuntary moan at the unexpected sensation of her tongue in his mouth and before he knew it he was pulling her closer and they were kissing frantically. When they drew back for some much needed air, Molly started to kiss his neck and then stopped. Her head dropped onto his shoulder and he realised that she had fallen asleep. He pulled her against him, snagging the blanket that lay over the arm of the sofa, placing it over her.

Sherlock’s mind was in turmoil. What the hell had just happened? One minute he was holding her up so she could drink some water, the next minute they were glued to one another. Well it was her who started it, she kissed him after all and as for him…… well it was just a chemical reaction. Yes that’s right, chemical reaction. Sherlock nodded his head satisfied with this cold logical reasoning. Satisfied, until he realised that he was holding Molly tightly in his arms, her head on his chest and he was stroking her hair, his cheek resting on the top of her head. He drew back with a slight gasp, and then cautiously moved from under her, putting a cushion underneath her head and covering her with the blanket. Then he silently crept out.

\----------------------------------

Sherlock had breakfast extremely early the next day and then went straight back to his little flat above the garage. He should have been back up at the house, talking to Molly, looking for clues and he would, he told himself, he’d just wait until he was sure that Molly was up and about. 

It was a little after ten when there was a timid knock at the door. Sherlock opened it and there was Molly, looking a little worse for wear.

“Hi, Scott.” Molly smiled but it was a small embarrassed smile.

“Molly. Please come in.” Sherlock smiled affably. He thought he’d let her do the talking for once.

Molly came in and sat on the sofa, Sherlock sat in the chair. Molly cleared her throat.

“About last night, I’m sorry.” She looked most woebegone. “I think I must have had more to drink than I should have done, I certainly had more than I usually do.”

“That’s ok, Molly. Think nothing of it. Would you like a drink?” Sherlock stood up and went to the little kitchenette. Molly hastily stood up.

“No, thanks. I just wanted to make sure that we were still ok?” Molly looked straight at him. Sherlock frowned in puzzlement before it occurred to him that maybe she couldn’t remember what had gone on. She would have found herself this morning, lying on the sofa with a blanket wrapped round her and with no idea how she got there.

“We’re fine. I just helped you into the house and put a blanket over you.” Sherlock reassured her. No point in mentioning the kiss, or kisses to be more precise, if she couldn’t remember all the better.

Molly’s face cleared and then she smiled a genuine smile. Sherlock froze. He was only dimly aware of her cheerfully saying goodbye and his response. He was more concerned with his heart, which was beating far too fast just from seeing Molly’s smile.

\-------------------------------

Sherlock was hanging around the Kitchen, getting in Kate’s way while she was baking. 

“That smells heavenly Kate.” Sherlock sniffed appreciatively. Kate smiled.

“You can have a biscuit in a minute once they’ve cooled down.”

Sherlock huffed in annoyance and then noticed Molly who was hovering in the doorway. Kate noticed her too.

“You’re out this evening, aren’t you Miss Molly?” Kate asked whilst transferring the biscuits to the cooling rack.

“Yes, I don’t know what time I’ll be back.” Molly came in and perched on a seat at the table.

“Do you want me to run you somewhere?” Sherlock asked. Molly shook her head.

“No, that’s ok. Rick is picking me up.” Molly said absently. She waited until Kate turned her back and then quickly picked up two biscuits from the cooling rack. She handed one to Sherlock with a wink and a smile before running out of the door before Kate could catch her.

“Molly! That girl, every time!” Kate scolded her, her smile belying her words. She turned to Sherlock who was quickly stuffing his biscuit into his mouth. “You’re just as bad. Now shoo, out of my kitchen.” Sherlock grinned and went out into the garden.

His smile faded though. Rick? Who was Rick? Was he Molly’s boyfriend? Nobody had mentioned a boyfriend before. Sherlock felt oddly unhappy at the thought of Molly having a boyfriend.


	4. Chapter 4

As the car containing Molly and her ‘friend’ drove passed Sherlock, he followed them in his own car. They drove quite a way before pulling into a small house with a small garden. Sherlock drove passed them and parked a little further up the street. It was dusk by this time and Sherlock watched in the shadow of a handy tree as Molly and her companion entered the house. Unfortunately it wasn’t light enough for Sherlock to see the man she was with. The door closed and Sherlock crept into the garden of the house to look through the window but he couldn’t see in as the curtains were closed. Sherlock swore under his breath and was about to go back to his car and wait when he noticed the flower beds. The garden was in an immaculate condition, apart from one flower bed. All the plants in this flower bed had been stripped rather crudely of their flowers. Sherlock bent down to investigate and found one flower head tucked in the corner of the flowerbed. Sherlock picked it up and put it in a little plastic bag he had in his coat pocket. He frowned, thinking and then quickly made his way back to his car to call Lestrade.

\-----------------------------------------------

Sherlock sat at a microscope in St. Bart’s laboratory. It had taken a while but Greg Lestrade had managed to get him access to the laboratory so that he could do tests on the flower head. It didn’t take long before Sherlock had the answer that he needed. The flower was Cytisus Scoparius – English Broom. Sherlock searched in his mind palace for the information he needed. English Broom is a highly poisonous plant which can affect the heart and would be difficult to detect. Sherlock made his way through Bart’s labyrinthine corridors and was actually at the main doors when he bumped into Molly.

“Scott! What are you doing here?” Molly asked surprise in her voice. Sherlock had to think quickly.

“I was visiting a friend. Nothing serious.” Sherlock’s attention was caught by the man with her. He looked familiar….. Sherlock shook his head to clear it.

“This is Rick. Rick this is my new chauffeur Scott.” Rick looked Sherlock up and down, there was something about him that Sherlock didn’t like.

“Nice to meet you…. Scott” He eventually said.

“Yes.” Sherlock sensed Molly’s surprise at his rather taciturn response so he quickly smiled, made his apologies and left.

\----------------------------------------------------

Sherlock didn’t go straight back to Molly’s house, instead he went home, he was staying with Mycroft until he had proven himself capable of living by himself drug free. He immediately went to his room to think, he was hoping that by being away from Molly’s presence he would be able to go into his mind palace without interruption. But even now mind palace Molly popped up and took his thought away from where he wanted to go, who was that man?

When Sherlock did return to Molly's he immediately realised that something was up. Molly must have been waiting for him because she flew down the steps and asked him to join her in the Drawing Room. Sherlock followed her inside and waited for her to speak.

“Have you met Rick before, Scott?” Her voice trembled but Sherlock didn’t know if it was fear or anger. He had a strange sense of foreboding.

“Never seen him before in my life.” Sherlock stated boldly. Molly’s eyes narrowed.

“Only he’s met you before, Sherlock.” Molly spat out his real name and Sherlock flinched. He took a deep breath.

“I see.” Was all he said.

“He works at New Scotland Yard, he’s a police officer. He told me he saw you with Inspector Greg Lestrade, that you were helping him with a case. He didn’t know any more than that. I’m the case, aren’t I? You think I killed Lizzie and Dave. You’re investigating me!” Molly’s voice quavered and he could see her take a deep breath to control herself.

“Molly, I don’t think you killed them….” Sherlock started but Molly cut in.

“Just go. Pack your things up and leave. I trusted you Sherlock, I liked you, I even thought……….” Molly trailed off. “I don’t want to see you again. Tell Inspector Lestrade that he will be hearing from my solicitor.” She turned away from him, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Sherlock turned and left. He didn’t want to go, he wanted to explain, to tell her he did like her, more than liked her but he also knew that she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to hear those words.

\------------------------------------------

He went straight to New Scotland Yard to see Lestrade. He told him his suspicions about Rick who Greg knew vaguely, he worked in a different department. Greg confirmed that he lived at the address that Molly went to last night. They went through the autopsy reports for all three suspicious deaths and Sherlock noticed that all of them had one thing in common. They all seemed to have suffered convulsions before death. That seemed to point to them being poisoned. 

Sherlock contacted Mycroft to find out as much about Rick Thomas and once Mycroft came back to him to say that Rick Thomas was actually Richard Hooper, Molly’s uncle’s estranged son everything quickly started to come together. Lestrade made a decision to have Rick brought in for questioning and allowed Sherlock to ‘listen in’. It didn’t take much for Rick to break down and admit everything. He had killed his uncle, then realised that his uncle has left everything in his will to Molly, he would only inherit after her. He then came up with a plan to get close to Molly, murder the chauffeur and the housekeeper and then ‘frame’ her for both their deaths and his father's, then the inheritance would come to him.

So that’s that, thought Sherlock, case closed, door firmly shut.

Only it wasn’t. Two days later and Sherlock still couldn’t get Molly Hooper out of his head. She seemed to invade his every thought so he decided to go and see her. Maybe once he’d seen her it might bring a natural close to the whole thing.

\-----------------------------------------------

Molly answered the door, her face was pale, her eyes red and swollen where she had been crying. When she realised it was Sherlock, she almost shut the door in his face but then she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and let him in.

“Sco… Mr Holmes, what do you want?” Molly had led him into the Drawing Room and indicated a chair for him to sit. He didn’t sit and neither did she. 

“I came to see how you were and to apologise.” They stood facing one another across the room. Sherlock was torn. On the one hand he wanted to go across to her, hold her gently in his arms and tell her everything would be alright but he also didn’t want to overcrowd her, hence him standing quite far away from her.

“I’m fine.” Molly spat at him. “It turns out that the person I’ve been seeing is actually my cousin. I suppose I should be thankful that I hadn’t slept with him. And he murdered two of friends, I loved Dave and Lizzie, they were like family to me and my uncle Peter, he was so good to me when Dad died. Rick he just wanted both my uncle’s and my dad’s estates and money.”

“I’m sorry Molly.” Sherlock said quietly. Molly nodded, her eyes gazing out of the window.

“I’ve decided to sell the house, find a flat in London. I think I always knew I would sell it and now after all that’s happened, I don’t want to be here anymore.” Her voice seemed to break and Sherlock couldn’t help himself. He moved towards her and took her into his arms. Molly resisted at first but then laid her head on his chest with a small sigh.

“I didn’t love him, Rick I mean. He was just so attentive and then you appeared as Scott and I just….” Molly trailed off as though realising what she was saying. She pulled away from him.

“But you’re not Scott Henderson. You’re Sherlock Holmes and I don’t know you at all. So even that wasn’t real.” Molly put her hand up to her face. Sherlock put his hand over hers, he moved closer to her.

“Scott and I aren’t that different. Not where you’re concerned anyway. Molly, would you give me a chance to make it up to you? Can we start again? I’ll introduce myself. I’m a high functioning sociopath that seems to have a fixation on a pathologist that works at Barts and you just happen to be that pathologist. Would you please have dinner with me?” Sherlock waited in suspense.

Molly stared at him for a long time before reaching up and kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Ok, Sherlock Holmes let’s start with dinner.” 

Sherlock reached down and hugged her. Molly hugged him back and kissed him lightly on the mouth to which he was only too happy to respond. It was somewhere to start at least.


End file.
